


Quibbler Unsolved

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Buzzfeed Unsolved Fusion, Buzzfeed Unsolved References, Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Drinking, Eviction, Explicit Language, Getting Fired, Goats, H/D Erised 2019, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Switching, Journalist Draco, Journalist Harry, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Matchmaking, Minor Astoria Greengrass/Pansy Parkinson, Minor Luna Lovegood/Dudley Dursley, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry Potter, Ouija, POV Draco Malfoy, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Redeemed Dudley Dursley, Sharing a Bed, Smitten Draco Malfoy, The Quibbler, The X-Files References, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-16 09:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21505600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: Draco is down on his luck without a home or a job, and so he has no choice but to accept an offer to work atThe Quibbler. He just didn’t expect to be searching for make-believe creatures in the Muggle world with Harry Potter.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 35
Kudos: 336
Collections: H/D Erised 2019, OneShots1





	Quibbler Unsolved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [persephoneapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephoneapple/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this, PersephoneApples! I really loved your sign up, and I got massively into Buzzfeed Unsolved as a result of it, so thank you :D Also a big thank you to the mods for granting me an extension when life got in the way, and to T for her amazing beta work <3 Any remaining mistakes are my own

**xXx**

Draco propped his elbows on the counter and rested his chin against his fists. He let out a sigh. The day was dragging by incredibly slowly, and he hadn’t seen a customer since before lunch. It wasn’t a surprise, because nobody wanted to buy bats except for a few select weirdos.

Draco certainly didn’t see any appeal to the screeching, leathery scraps of animal, and he definitely hated having to clean up their waste, and the Merlin-awful scent that clung to Draco long after he left for home. 

“Draco. A word, please.”

Draco glanced towards Niles, his boss, surprised to see him out of his office. He never came onto the shop floor, hating bats almost as much as he hated customers. Sometimes Draco wasn’t sure why Niles kept his late father’s business, until he remembered it must be nice to sit around doing nothing but still making money. 

With one last look at the door to make sure that there were still no customers, Draco left the counter and made his way over to Niles. Niles’ face was set in a grim line, but that was no different to how he usually looked. 

“What—?”

“Draco, I’m letting you go,” Niles cut in bluntly. Draco felt his heart drop into his stomach. 

“What? Why?” he demanded. “I’ve never had a day off, never been late—”

“I don’t have to give you a reason,” Niles said gruffly. “It’s my business and I can do what I want. You’re free to leave now. I won’t make you finish your shift.”

“I didn’t need your permission to leave early,” Draco snapped. “By the way, your shop smells like shit.”

With that, Draco spun on his heel and stormed out of the store, barging bodily past one of the hags begging just outside the window. Despite telling himself not to, Draco cast one last look back at the store, but Niles wasn’t looking at him. No, Niles was showing the counter and the till to a petite brunette girl clad in skimpy clothes. Niles’ hand was on the small of her back, and Draco knew at once why he’d been replaced. 

Hot tears stung at Draco’s eyes, and he angrily swiped them away before they could fall. He’d been lucky to find that job, and he doubted he was going to find another one anytime soon. Nobody wanted to hire an ex-Death Eater. Even down Knockturn Alley, they would refuse him, but that was not because they had anything against associates of the Dark Lord. Rather, a Death Eater employee meant the Ministry was more likely to be keeping an eye on them.

He Apparated back to his apartment, eager to get started on the bottle of wine that he had waiting for him. He had planned on saving it for something good, but it didn’t seem like good things would be coming his way anytime soon. 

He took the stairs up to his apartment, not wanting to take the lift that stank of piss. He walked briskly past peeling wallpaper and stained carpet, coming up short down his hallway as he saw his landlord pinning something to his door.

“Jasper, what are you doing?”

Jasper turned at the sound of Draco’s voice, guilt written all over his expression. 

“Draco! I didn’t expect you home so early!”

“Yeah, but I am. So I’ll ask you again; what are you doing?”

Jasper shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I’m evicting you, Draco. I’ve just put the note up on your door. You’re behind on the rent _again_ and I’m done with giving you second chances.”

“I can have the money tomorrow,” Draco said quickly, but they both knew it was a lie. 

Draco’s stomach was in knots, feeling like it was frozen and burning all at once. It felt like he was in some kind of twisted nightmare, where things just kept getting worse and worse. 

“No, it’s today or never,” Jasper said, Draco hung his head bitterly. “I thought as much. You have two days to clear your things out. If you stay beyond that deadline, I’ll have to get the Ministry involved.”

“I don’t plan on staying in this shithole of a place any longer, don’t you worry about that,” Draco snarled sharply. “Fuck off, why don’t you?”

“Sorry, Draco,” Jasper said, before striding down the hallway in the opposite direction. 

Draco closed his eyes, hoping that maybe when he opened them again he’d wake up in his bed in his dingy apartment and have to get up and ready for his shitty job. Instead, Draco opened them to the sight of the dank hallway and the strip of parchment on his door. 

He tore the parchment away with a growl, storming out of the apartment complex before he Apparated to Pansy’s house. 

Pansy lived in London in a posh townhouse that the Ministry hadn’t known about when they seized the rest of the Parkinson properties. The Malfoys weren’t as lucky and were left with nothing. 

He knocked on the door, waiting only a few short seconds before Pansy answered, looking surprised to see him. 

“Hey, Pans. Am I okay to stay here for a while?”

Then he crumpled into her arms.

**xXx**

Draco flipped the page of his book so angrily that he tore the top corner. He let out a huff and threw the book down. It had taken him half an hour to get through his last page anyway, unable to focus on the words so much that he ended up reading the same sentences over and over.

He could hear Pansy and Astoria laughing downstairs, along with Daphne who was visiting the happy couple. Pansy was his best friend, but sometimes Draco resented how easy everything seemed for her. She had a loving girlfriend, a nice house, and enough money that she didn’t need to work. 

Draco, on the other hand, was homeless, penniless, and bunking in a friend’s spare room because he had nowhere else to go. He’d barely left his room since he’d moved in with Pansy and Astoria, not wanting to feel even more like the pitiful third wheel he’d become. 

The Dark Mark on his arm was no longer black, faded to a pale pink following the death of the Dark Lord, but the Mark still felt like a blazing brand on his arm. He was found innocent in the courtroom, largely due to his age, and partially because he lied about Harry Potter’s identity to save him from the Dark Lord. With the mark of the Death Eater still on him, he was forever ostracised. 

He jumped when a loud knock sounded on his door. 

“Fuck off,” Draco snarled at his door, not in the mood to deal with anyone right now. 

Astoria ignored him, opening the door violently. She stood in the entryway with one hand on a curvy hip. Her nose crinkled at the sight of empty wine bottles and discarded empty pizza boxes in Draco’s room. 

“Will you come downstairs, Draco?” Astoria asked. “Living up here in the dark moping is doing no good for you.”

“I think I’m perfectly entitled to mope, thank you,” Draco retorted sharply. “So will you now kindly leave me alone?”

“I could leave you alone—” Astoria began. 

“Then do it!”

“But,” Astoria continued, disregarding Draco’s interruption, “if I do, then Pansy will come up, and she’ll hex you out of here. Daphne has some good news for you, which I think you’ll be really pleased to hear.”

“I doubt that very much,” Draco scoffed, but he dragged himself out of bed regardless. 

As he followed Astoria down the hallway, he caught sight of his reflection in a mirror on the wall. His own mirror was covered over so he didn’t have to look at himself. Now Draco could quite clearly see how disarrayed his hair had become, the dark circles under his eyes, and the tattered black jumper he hadn’t taken off for two days. His mother and father would be horrified at the sight of him, but at least he had the decency not to go out in public looking like he did.

Daphne gave him an exasperated look when he entered the sitting room, causing Draco to scowl. 

“So what’s this news you have for me?” Draco asked sharply. “Are you engaged or knocked up? No offence, but I’m really not in the mood to hear about other people’s good fortune when my own life has gone to shit.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so melodramatic, darling.”

“I’m neither engaged, nor pregnant,” Daphne said curtly, pursing her lips. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I’ve become quite good friends with Luna Lovegood, and she’s offering you a job at _The Quibbler_ as an assistant journalist.”

Draco stared at her. “The same Lovegood who my insane aunt imprisoned in the Manor cellar? That Lovegood wants to offer me a job working for her batty magazine?”

“Don’t be rude,” Daphne reprimanded. “Yes, that Lovegood. She’s a very forgiving and caring person, and invented a job role specifically for you when she heard about your difficulties.”

“Nice to know you’ve all been gossiping about me,” Draco muttered darkly. 

“We’ve been trying to find you a job, you massive prick,” Pansy said. “You know I love you, darling, but you’ve done nothing but mope in self-pity this last month, and look at the state of you! You need a job, and it’s either this or try and find your way in the Muggle world. I’m not going to let you sit wasting away for another month.”

As much as the idea of working for _The Quibbler_ left a sour taste in his mouth, he knew that Pansy was right. Nobody else in the magical community was going to be offering him a job any time soon, and he’d much rather work with Lovegood than lower himself to embracing the Muggle world. He may have dropped the Dark Lord’s ideals, but he still found the idea of a magicless society somewhat primitive. 

Besides, he couldn’t mooch off Pansy forever. He needed money of his own.

“Fine,” he said with a sigh. “Tell Lovegood I’ll accept her offer. And thank you, I guess, for everything. I can’t imagine I’ve been pleasant company for any of you.”

“No, you haven’t,” Astoria agreed. “You’ve had your time to be an arsehole, though, so now it’s time to get back on your feet.”

“And of course you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need,” Pansy added. “On the condition you clean yourself, your clothes, and your room. Your current state isn’t very becoming.”

Draco raised his arm and sniffed, immediately wrinkling his nose. 

“Yes, I think I’ll go and have a bath,” he said. “Unless you want me to wait until you go, Daphne?”

Daphne grimaced and shook her head. “No, go now.”

**xXx**

From the outside, _The Quibbler_ looked like any other of the nondescript buildings in the Muggle street. On the inside, however, it was like stepping into another world.

Some kind of fake birds squawked as he opened the door into what at first appeared to be a rainforest, with large, lush green leaves hanging from the ceiling and around the entryway. To the right of the reception area was a stone fountain with water trickling down into a pool. It was filled with unusual fish, some of which were vibrant pink or purple, while others had wings, and Draco even spied one which had three eyes. 

On the left side of the room, the rainforest theme abruptly stopped, and several large bean bags were situated in front of a wall covered in clippings from old editions of _The Quibbler_. Various trinkets dangled from the ceiling over the waiting area: dream catchers, beaded threads, lines of corkscrews, and flower chains. 

Draco had never used drugs, but he imagined that the _Quibbler_ ’s reception room was the kind of thing that people saw when high. 

Directly opposite the door was a desk that was covered in numerous figurines of magical creatures and a tiny scrap of paper that a man was scrawling something on. He made no sign of knowing there was someone waiting, only looking up after Draco cleared his throat to announce his presence. 

The man was large, though the way his arms bulged under his t-shirt suggested it was almost all muscle. He had a neatly cut head of blond hair, and his watery blue eyes narrowed at the sight of Draco. 

“What do you want?”

Draco felt instantly affronted at the stony welcome, and plastered on a sneer. 

“I’m not here to talk to you, I can assure you. I’m Draco Malfoy, here to see your boss.”

The man’s expression softened at once. “Ah, right. Sorry, mate; we’ve had some problems with trouble-makers recently.”

It suddenly made sense to Draco why the receptionist was less of a bookish woman, and instead a beast of a man. 

“I’ll call for Luna,” the man continued. “Take a seat.”

Draco wasn’t going to lower himself to sitting on a bean bag, so he remained standing, watching the fake mechanical birds fluttering about the tree branches until Luna appeared. She was clad in a pair of dungarees which were splattered in paint, and the t-shirt she wore underneath was a shocking shade of sunshine yellow. 

Luna beamed brightly at him, which made Draco feel slightly better about the chaotic nature of the place. Rainbows and animals weren’t his scene at all, but he supposed selling bats hadn’t been either. 

“Thank you, Dudley,” Luna said, turning her smile towards the other man. “Come through to my office. I’ll transfigure you a chair. I can see you’re uncomfortable using a bean bag, though they really are fun chairs. I can’t promise how good they are for your posture, but I think I’d rather be happy than have good posture. Can I get you a drink? I have hemp juice in my office, but I can send Dudley for tea or coffee if you prefer.”

Draco shook his head. “I’m good. Thank you,” he added, almost as an afterthought. 

Luna’s office walls were a mismatch of paintings spread across them, with no clear joining to any of them. Where one ended, another began right next to it. Some paintings were patterns, others animals, and other people. 

“Do you like painting, Draco?” Luna asked, noticing where he was looking.

“I can’t say I’ve ever tried it,” Draco answered, taking a seat after Luna transfigured the bean bag into a chair for him.

“You should, it’s good for the soul.” Luna gave him a serene smile, her wide, silvery eyes looking at him intently. “As I’m sure Daphne told you, we’re taking you on as an assistant journalist. Not to me, because Dudley helps me with that, but with our other writer. He’s working on a new section of _The Quibbler_ about Muggle magic, and all the myths and legends that come with it. It won’t be long until he’s in, and then he’ll be able to tell you more about it and what he needs your assistance with. Does that sound good to you?”

Draco nodded. He took a deep breath to steady himself before forcing himself to say his next words. “I want to thank you, Luna, for this opportunity. I know my family did you wrong during the war, and—”

“The past is the past, Draco,” Luna interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. “There’s no point lingering on things that hurt us. Besides, your actions now mean far more than any words of apology ever can.”

Draco swallowed heavily, and nodded. 

“Good,” Luna pressed on. “This job will involve travel across the UK and the world, but your transport, board, and food will all be paid for, and of course you’ll get a monthly wage of 300 Galleons.”

Draco tried not to let his surprise show at that amount. He’d barely made half that in his previous job.

So what if the _Quibbler_ office and its owner were incredibly eccentric? If it paid such good money, and gave him travel time which got him out of Pansy and Astoria’s hair, then he couldn’t complain at all. 

The fates had never been kind to Draco, though. 

A buzzer sounded in Luna’s office, and she looked to her door with a grin.

“Ah, he’s here.”

The door opened, and in stepped a tall, slender figure with shaggy black hair, and vibrant emerald eyes looking out from underneath thick-rimmed glasses. 

“Potter!”

**xXx**

Luna and Potter had gone to talk about something outside the office, leaving Draco alone to seethe in peace.

He was angry that he was going to have to work with Potter, he was angry that nobody thought fit to tell him that he would be working with Potter, and he was angry that Potter was far too damn attractive. In clothes that actually fit him, Potter’s slender figure was fully on display—especially his shapely arse. Add in the just-shagged hair, boyish charm, and intensely green eyes, and it was no wonder Draco’s prick had stirred in interest at the sight of him.

Part of Draco wanted to storm out of the building and not look back, but he had better self-preservation skills than that. This job was his second and probably final chance in the wizarding world, and the money was too much to just walk away from. He certainly wasn’t going to let Potter the opportunity for him, and if that meant dealing with confusing attraction thrown in with daily annoyance, then so be it. 

When the door to the office opened again Potter came in alone, and he looked surprised to see Draco waiting. 

“Oh, you’re still here,” Potter said. “I’d expected you to have climbed out of the window and done a runner.”

Draco raised a brow. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Potter’s expression dropped, and he waved his hands in front of him wildly. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m glad you’re still here! I know our history isn’t the best—”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Draco interrupted dryly. 

“But,” Potter continued, ignoring Draco’s comment, “I think you’re really going to enjoy working here. We’re going to be searching for all kinds of creatures that supposedly exist in the Muggle world. You won’t need to write anything, but you can take photos and make notes while we’re on our search, and proof-reading will come in really handy because I’m hopeless at grammar.”

Draco’s lip curled. “Why am I not surprised? Lucky for you, I have impeccable grammar and an incredible knack for spelling among my many skills. What creatures are you searching more? I thought most chose to stay away from Muggle areas.”

“I’m not talking about _our_ magical creatures, I’m talking about Muggle kinds,” Potter said. “Things like the yeti, aliens, wendigos…things that have no definitive proof of existing but that still have scores of Muggles believing in them.”

“So we’re searching for imaginary creatures then? Muggles are distinctly un-magical, and if their creatures did exist, our kind would have found proof of them by now.”

“Wizards aren’t higher beings,” Potter retorted. “Maybe we just didn’t know what we were looking for, or we just didn’t care about Muggle myths enough to investigate.”

“You can’t tell me you actually think these Muggle creatures exist?” Draco asked. Potter had his flaws—many, many flaws to be precise—but Draco had never considered him a fool. Perhaps spending too much time with Luna and Dumbledore over the years had rubbed off on him. 

“I spent nearly eleven years of my life believing that the world was completely unmagical until I discovered there was a whole world of magic right under my nose. I did end up taking it for granted for a while. I thought Luna was just quirky when she spoke about Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Then, you know Dudley, the bloke you met at reception? He’s my cousin—a Muggle—and he got back in touch with me after the war wanting to get to know me and my world better. I’ve watched him ever since getting amazed by new magical things everyday. It made me realise that there’s so much of the world that’s unknown, and all these myths and legends have to come from _somewhere_. And trust me, if Dudley can open himself up to these new experiences, then anyone can.”

Draco could scarcely believe that the big man out at the front was related to Potter, both so different in looks and temperament. He also couldn’t believe he’d had a proper interaction with a Muggle for the first time and not even realised it. 

He looked back to Potter, who was waiting on Draco’s response. 

“I believe in magical theory, not fairy tales,” Draco said. “However, as childish as I think you sound, I’ll still be happy to join you in producing these articles.”

Potter beamed, seemingly not put out by being called childish. “You know, the for-and-against narrative could work brilliantly for the formatting. Readers like conflict, even in their news reports. God, I’m beginning to sound like Rita Skeeter. Just so you know, Quick-Quote Quills are banned.”

“Along with red nail varnish and crocodile skin handbags?” Draco quipped. 

Potter grinned, and Draco didn’t think he’d ever seen Potter smile directly at him before. It made his stomach flutter in a way that Draco wasn’t entirely comfortable with, feeling too much like a school-boy crush for his liking. 

300 Galleons a month really had to be worth it.

**xXx**

Draco stood stiffy by the bean bags in the _Quibbler_ reception area, waiting with his trunk by his side. He’d been informed that they’d be going away for just a couple of days to start on their first article, but that was all the information he’d been given.

Luna and Potter both seemed rather disorganised, or at least existed in some kind of organised chaos that only made sense to them, so Draco wasn’t surprised he hadn’t been told much more than to pack for Scottish weather. The least effort Draco had to put into this hunt for make-believe creatures, the better.

Potter finally arrived, dragging a trunk covered in stickers behind him. Some stickers had rainbow motifs, while others were depictions of magical creatures, including werewolves, vampires, and dragons. Draco was glad to see Potter wasn’t insane enough to disregard the creatures that actually existed. 

Potter wore skin-tight jeans which had Draco’s mouth salivating at the sight of Potter’s firm thighs. Potter’s t-shirt was confusing enough to distract from that, however, showing what seemed to be a bowler hat above a beam of light in which a detail-less person was floating in the middle of. The words ‘the truth is out there’ was written beneath in green text. 

“I can get you one if you like,” Potter said, noticing where Draco was looking. 

“No, thank you,” Draco said stiffly. “I prefer my bowler hats on my head, not floating on my clothing.”

Potter gave him a confused look before he grinned. “I have so much to teach you. Aliens aren’t our focus today, though. We’re going to be looking for the Loch Ness Monster. It made sense to stay relatively local for our first article.”

“What the fuck is the Loch Ness Monster?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Potter answered with a smirk. “Nessie, as she’s affectionately known, is a large, water-dwelling creature with a long neck and at least one hump. In 1933, news of Nessie’s supposed existence began to spread, but accounts existed in the 1870s, and even as far back as 565, although that was in the river rather than the loch itself.”

“So this creature is older than Hogwarts? Is there an Elixir of Life in Loch Ness too?” 

Potter rolled his eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe there’s been a long line of Nessies.”

“It’s Loch Ness Monster, not Loch Ness _Monsters_ ,” Draco pointed out. “I know you’re probably a sad, innocent virgin, but breeding requires at least two participants.”

“I’m aware of that,” Potter said dryly. “Any of the sightings of photos may have been of different creatures, so there may well be more than one.”

“So there’s photographic proof of this monster?” Draco supposed at least that added some credibility to the theory. 

Potter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I mean, scientists have said that the photos are either hoaxes, or something other than a monster, but they could just be covering up the truth because that would mean admitting to something beyond their imaginations! Muggles are great at ignoring signs of our world, so it could happen in their world too!”

There went the credibility. 

“So there’s absolutely no valid proof, and only reported sightings without anything to back them up?” Draco clarified. “I wish you luck in your hunt, Potter. Can you swim? Perhaps you ought to get into the water and have a good look yourself.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Potter said thoughtfully. “With Gillyweed or the Bubble-Head Charm, we could get a better look than Muggles could.”

“Merlin, Potter, I was joking!” Draco cried in exasperation. “How can I make fun of your wavering sanity if you just end up agreeing with me?” 

“My sanity is only wavering if you’re a non-believer,” Potter said wisely, tapping his hand against the text on his t-shirt. “The truth is out there, Malfoy.”

**xXx**

As soon as Draco took one step into their hotel, he found himself wishing he was back in the eccentric _Quibbler_ offices, or even in his depressing room at Pansy’s house. It was much better than his previous apartment, but that wasn’t hard to find.

First of all, the hotel was clearly a budget place. The carpet was a mucky brown colour and the walls a faded beige. The front desk and the keys behind it looked like they had seen better days, and the receptionist was a tired-looking middle-aged woman who seemed to wish she was anywhere but there. 

To make things worse, most space on the walls were taken up by ‘photos’, paintings, illustrations, and newspaper clippings of the Loch Ness Monster. A large group of tourists stood nearby, all wearing bright green hats shaped like the monster, while others—Americans, judging by their accent—spoke loudly about their upcoming boat trip to the Loch and how they hoped to see the creature. 

Even though Potter had told him that countless Muggles believed in the stories, it was bewildering to Draco to see so many of them excited and eager about the Loch Ness Monster. Muggles had always felt entirely un-magical and dull to Draco, but here they were, embracing magic—a make-believe, fantastical type of magic, but a type of magic nonetheless. 

Potter checked them in, not even giving Draco the opportunity to do so. Draco would have been offended, had he not been aware that any skills needed to exist in the Muggle world were non-existent to him. Their coins were utterly baffling to him, and the telly-fone that the receptionist mentioned was a completely unknown concept. 

They had to leave their luggage in a little storage area because their room wasn’t ready, which was another unusual aspect to Draco. All the hotels he’d stayed at were cleaned in quick time by house-elves, magic, or a combination of both. It must be dreadful to have to do cleaning by hand, and it was no wonder Muggles always looked so miserable. 

“Shall we go out for lunch somewhere?” Potter suggested. 

“Does Luna’s budget cover fine dining?” Draco asked, causing Potter to grin.

“Not a chance. Besides, I hate that kind of stuffy place where you have to use the correct fork or else they throw you out.”

“You start on the outside and work your way in, it’s really not that complicated,” Draco said. “I suppose your experience of dining comes from the Weasleys, and they certainly have no concept of fine dining.”

Potter’s eyes narrowed, the first sign of true annoyance Draco had seen from him since they’d begun working together. Surprisingly, the sight didn’t make Draco feel gleeful like it used to; he much preferred the sight of Potter smiling now. 

“No need to look like I just kicked your puppy,” Draco added hastily. “Sometimes I just can’t turn my arsehole switch off.”

“I don’t think you even have a switch,” Potter retorted, but his expression softened. 

Loch Ness was stunningly beautiful, Draco had to admit. Deep blue water stretched out wide in front of them, surrounded by lush green hills and mountains. It reminded him of being back at Hogwarts, relaxing by the Black Lake with his friends during happier days. 

“I keep expecting a giant tentacle from the Squid to come poking out of the water,” Potter said, his thoughts seemingly taking the same directions as Draco’s. “And that just makes me think about what could be lurking beneath _these_ depths.”

So maybe not _quite_ the same direction as Draco’s. 

They found a pub by the edge of the water, with pretty white walls and a thatched roof which promised home-cooked food. Inside the crowd was cheerful and lively, and the two of them barely managed to find a table, grabbing one which had only just been vacated. 

“I kind of want to try haggis, but I have a feeling it will be disgusting,” Potter said thoughtfully as he read the menu. “What do you think?”

Draco blinked, surprised that Potter was actually asking his opinion. “Haggis is nice. This is because you were Muggle-raised; they’re afraid of food that comes from all parts of the animal. Our kind don’t have such reservations.”

“I think I’ll just get a cheese and tomato panini,” Potter said. “Are you going for haggis then?”

Draco nodded. “Better than whatever the fuck a burger is.”

They spoke about neutral topics while they waited for their food to arrive: work, Luna, and the Loch Ness Monster.

“I refuse to call it Nessie,” Draco said, after Potter asked him why he kept referring to the creature by its full name. “A silly story like that doesn’t need an even sillier nickname to go with it. Whatever this monster is supposed to be, I very much doubt it’s supposed to be cute.”

“Nessie can be cute if she wants to be,” Potter argued. “There’s been loads of tales about her, but you never hear of her killing or attacking anyone. She’s a peaceful creature.”

“She’s a peaceful fantasy story, you mean,” Draco corrected. 

Potter rolled his eyes. 

When their food arrived, Draco could feel Potter’s gaze flickering to his haggis every so often.

He sighed. “Do you want to try a bit?”

Draco never shared his food as a rule. If people wanted what he had, then they needed to get their own. Yet, here he was, offering Potter his haggis— even when it was rare to find on menus unless you were out in Scotland.

“Go on then,” Potter said, scraping a bite onto his fork. “Thank you.”

It was worth sharing his food just to see the look on Potter’s face. Almost as soon as the haggis touched his tongue, his face screwed up in horror, but like the bold Gryffindor he was, he swallowed his mouthful.

“It doesn’t even taste bad, it’s just the _idea_ of it,” Potter said. “It’s like venison. My dad was a stag Animagus, so I can’t touch the stuff.”

“I didn’t know that. I knew your godfather was, but…”

Potter looked sheepish. “They were illegal. The two of them, along with Pettigrew, became Animagi so they could join Remus Lupin on the full moon because werewolves aren’t dangerous to animals.”

“How noble of them,” Draco said, hoping it didn’t sound sarcastic. 

“Funny thing is, Pettigrew’s form was a rat, and they were surprised to find out that he was the true traitor.”

“Your life has been nothing short of chaotic,” Draco said. “It’s no wonder you’ve grown so eccentric. Or insane, as some might call it.”

“People like you, you mean?” Potter quipped. “If believing there’s magic everywhere makes me insane, then so be it. I really hope we find concrete proof of Nessie, and then maybe you can join me in my eccentric camp.”

“I think I’ve already joined you because I’m helping you search for the damn thing,” Draco said, picking up his glass and raising it. “And surprisingly, the time I’m spending with you isn’t anywhere near as horrific as I thought it would be.”

Potter raised his own glass and clinked it against Draco’s. “Ditto.”

He smiled again, and Draco took a healthy gulp of his beer to try and ignore the fluttering feeling in his stomach at the sight. It didn’t help.

**xXx**

The next day, Draco and Potter took a little rowing boat out onto Loch Ness. The weather was cloudy and overcast, the air damp but not quite raining. Draco would rather be back at their little budget hotel than out on water on such a day, but he didn’t have a say in the matter.

Potter didn’t seem at all bothered by the weather, sitting back as their oars moved them towards the middle of the loch. He and Draco both had their hands on the oars despite the fact magic was moving them, just to look less suspicious if any Muggles looked over and saw them moving on their own. 

As it stood, there weren’t too many Muggles on the water, which Draco was glad for. They might all be out for the same reason, but Draco didn’t want anyone else thinking he was willingly searching for a make-believe creature. 

Once they were far enough out, Harry stopped the charm on the oars, bringing them to a stop. He opened up a small bag, and brought out a large box which could only have fit inside the bag through the use of magic. 

“Clever trick,” Draco said, nodding at the bag. “I assume it’s not your handy work.”

Potter shook his head. “Nah, Hermione’s. She thinks what I’m doing is ridiculous, but she still insisted on packing for me so that I could do my stupid job to the best of my ability.”

“So how long has Granger been your acting mother? Is Weasley your acting father?”

Potter rolled his eyes. “At least I have friends.”

“I have friends, thank you very much,” Draco snapped, inwardly cringing when he realised that Pansy and Astoria had been mothering him too recently. “Daphne’s friendly with Luna, too, which is how I got this job.”

Potter looked confused for a moment. “Right.”

“How did those two become friends?” Draco asked, while Potter began flicking switches on the box. “They don’t seem like they have anything in common.”

“Luna collects a strange combination of friends,” Potter murmured. “Once people put their judgement of Luna aside, they realise she’s a lovely person who’d do anything for those she cares about. She’s just a little bit eccentric.”

“No, _you’re_ a little bit eccentric. Luna’s _very_ eccentric,” Draco corrected. “You might lack style, but your clothes are a least relatively normal. What are you doing anyway?”

Potter was lowering the metal box into the water attached to a smaller device, which Potter held in his hands. 

“It’s to record sounds underwater,” Potter explained. “Anything unusual could be the sounds of Nessie. Can you get the camera ready? Take photos of the scenery, but keep your eyes open for any disturbances in the water. If we could get a magical photo of Nessie it could be game-changing.”

Draco raised the camera. He was ready, but not expecting to capture any of the footage that Potter was so eager to find. The loch was peaceful, though, and at least he could have a pleasant afternoon out on the water. 

“You know, some Muggles believe that Kelpies live here too,” Potter said, as he crumbled up some bread and tossed it into the water. “And _we_ know that Kelpies are real, so Muggles aren’t too far off the truth. What else do you think Nessie might eat? I have cheese and meat, too.”

“I don’t think the Loch Ness Monster eats anything, because it’s hard to eat when you don’t exist,” Draco said blandly, making Potter roll his eyes. “Just throw everything in, but be prepared to attract all the birds and fish in the area. Actually, don’t put meat in the water.”

Draco reached out and grasped Potter’s wrist without thinking. They both froze. Potter’s skin was softer than Draco had imagined. 

“If there are Kelpies in here, the meat might attract them,” Draco said, his gaze refusing to look away from Potter’s unwavering one. 

“Right,” Potter said, nodding. “Uh, Malfoy.”

“What?”

“Can you let go of me now?”

Draco dropped Harry’s wrist quickly, and buried his face in his camera so he didn’t have to look at Potter’s expression. 

“Oh!” Harry cried, as a strange squeaking noise came through the device he was holding. “What’s that sound? Do you know anything that can make that sound?”

“Anything could make that sound,” Draco said. Truthfully, he knew very little about animals, though the sound to him did seem like some kind of dolphin. 

“Maybe Nessie’s beneath us somewhere! No wizards have ever looked for her before, as far as I know, so maybe she’s responding to our magic. Keep your camera on the water, Draco.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but had to admit that Potter’s excitement was rather cute. He promptly shook his head in horror at such a thought entering his mind. 

Unfortunately, he kept glancing over at Potter, with his flushed cheeks, and his eyes lit up with joy. Each time he did, he was reminded of just how damn cute Potter was being. It was selfish of him, really, and it was his fault that Draco couldn’t keep his eyes away.

**xXx**

Draco had expected Potter’s office to look like a Gryffindor-themed explosion, perhaps with a large portrait of Dumbledore hanging on the wall, but it was nothing of the sort.

The walls were cream and the furnishings grey, which would have been respectable choices on their own. Potter had ruined it though, by having numerous paintings and drawings of mythical creatures on his walls, along with newspaper clippings which had red pen marks underlining and circling words, as well as providing commentary.

There were also several photos of Potter with various friends, Granger and Weasley featured most often. A little boy with bright blue hair also appeared in a lot, and Luna and Dudley waved at Draco from a couple of frames, too. 

Draco felt a stab of jealousy as he looked at the photos. Potter looked so carefree and easy-going with his friends, smiling brightly from ear to ear. He had glimpsed for himself how stunning Potter’s smile was, and he’d only been graced with the sight a small number of times. 

The problem was, as much as Draco liked seeing Potter smile, he also liked riling him up. It was especially good that they were able to banter without drawing wands on one another now—he got to wind Potter up with no risk to himself. 

“Your office is horrid in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine,” Draco said. “I was expecting sentimental junk everywhere, but instead it just looks like what I believe the inside of your mind looks like.”

“What would your office look like if you were based off your mind, then?” Potter retorted. “Lots of stormy clouds I imagine.”

Draco nodded. “Most likely, though there’d be semi-naked men dancing in the rain, too.”

Draco was pleased to notice a slight blush to Potter’s cheeks. 

“So, what do you think we should look for next?” Potter asked, ignoring Draco’s last comment. “If you decide now we can get Dudders to organise the trip while I write the article on Nessie.”

“And what are you going to write?” Draco asked, raising a brow. “‘We found absolutely no sign of the Loch Ness Monster, just like my brilliant assistant predicted. The real mystery we need to solve is how he can both both beautiful _and_ intelligent.'”

“How did you know? That’s going to be my opening statement,” Potter deadpanned. “And as a matter of fact, I think those noises we heard could definitely have been Nessie. I know you said they could have belonged to anything, but you didn’t identify anything they _could_ belong to.”

“Strange, questionable noises don’t make proof for anything,” Draco said, sighing. “And I don’t mind what we go after next, but I think we should go somewhere hot. If we’re going to chasing make-believe creatures, we might as well get some sun out of it.”

He expected Potter to roll his eyes at him, but instead he looked thoughtful. A thoughtful Potter was never a good Potter. 

“Hmm, legends of the Chupacabra come from Puerto Rico, and that’s a place with good weather. I mean, tales of the Chupacabra have spread, but Puerto Rico is where it originates so that seems like the best place to try.”

“Sounds decent enough,” Draco said. “Any chance of getting a higher end hotel this time?”

Potter shook his head and laughed. “No chance. Oh, are you going to come to dinner with me, Luna, and Dudley tonight? We wanted to celebrate completing our first expedition, and it wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

Draco pretended to consider the question. “Well, as a much-hated member of society, I’m sure you know I have a massive social circle and calendar.” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am sadly free tonight which means I can join you. What exactly are you celebrating, though? You didn’t find the Loch Ness Monster.”

“I kind of did,” Potter said, holding his thumb and finger out in front of him, slightly spaced apart. “I’m glad you’re coming tonight, though; it should be fun.”

Potter smiled, making Draco’s stomach flip over. Before he went out for dinner, he’d have to go home and have a sulk over the way Potter made him feel. And then maybe a wank—yes, that sounded good.

**xXx**

Draco looked at Dudley, grimaced, and looked away again. Dudley seemed equally as uncomfortable with the situation, and he wished he’d gone to the bar with Potter instead of leaving it to Luna.

“So,” Dudley said slowly, breaking the awkward silence. “Were you a friend of Harry’s at school?”

Draco let out a bark of laughter. “Hardly. Some people would even say I bullied him.”

“So did I,” Dudley said. 

“You said I bullied your cousin?” Draco asked, brows furrowed. 

Dudley shook his head. “No, I don’t know anything about you. Harry never mentioned you, but he never mentioned anything else either, because I bullied him too. I made his childhood miserable. Despite that, Harry still saved me from those horrid Dementor things, and welcomed me into his life when I got back in touch with him last year.”

“Potter’s genuinely a good person, which irritates the fuck out of me,” Draco said. “It would be easy to hate him like I used to do, if I didn’t know he’s actually really nice.”

Dudley grinned. “I know, right? He’s such a goody-goody, and you can’t even resent him for it, otherwise _you’re_ the arsehole.” 

Draco laughed, bewildered that he was actually having a pleasant conversation with a Muggle for the first time in his life. 

“So you really picked on Potter when he was young? I always imagined him being spoiled and doted on by his family.”

Dudley’s expression darkened. “No, it was me that got that. If I made Harry’s childhood miserable, it’s nothing compared to what my parents did to him.” He trailed off, glancing around to make sure Potter wasn’t coming back. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this. It makes me sick thinking about what my mum and dad did to him, but I still love them because they’re my parents. It’s definitely made my relationship with them a lot more complicated.”

“I understand,” Draco said. “They’re great as parents, but Merlin-awful excuses for human beings. My mother and father are both overseas to avoid being jailed, so I’m sure that tells you everything you need to know about them.”

“My mum and dad don’t even know I’m back in touch with Harry, or that I’m dating Luna. I think if I ever introduced them to Luna, they’d both have heart attacks.”

“Kills two phoenixes with one stone,” Draco said. 

“Hello, boys,” came Luna’s airy voice, and the two of them fell back into silence immediately. “You look like you’re having fun together.”

“Yes, it appears we have quite a lot in common,” Draco said, as Potter took the seat beside him. The cramped seating area meant that Potter’s thigh brushed against Draco’s, and it almost seemed like Potter was pressing harder purposefully.

“I could have told you that,” Potter said. “You know, Malfoy, when I first met you, you reminded me so much of Dudley.”

Draco opened his mouth to argue, and then thought better of it because Potter probably had a point. 

“Yes, but you’re both much better people now,” Luna added softly. “You’ve grown out of your cruelty, which takes a lot of strength.”

Draco didn’t know what to say to that, so he took a sip of his wine and immediately shuddered. “What is this?!”

“Oh, yeah, that didn’t have any of that fancy wine you asked for, so I just picked a random red one,” Potter said. “I’m surprised you can even tell the difference.”

“Of course you can tell the difference! Different wines carry different notes.”

“Notes? It’s a drink, not an instrument, Malfoy.” 

Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was ready to launch into a lecture about the etiquette of wine, when he noticed the way that Luna and Dudley were looking at him. They both seemed strangely pleased, and had knowing smiles on their faces. 

“What?” he asked them. 

Luna’s smile grew. “Nothing.”

Draco looked back at Potter, who was angled towards Draco and looking at him intently. He looked confused, no doubt lost about what was going on—either that, or he was wondering how he could have failed to find the Loch Ness Monster. 

Potter gave him a small smile as his cheeks began to flush; he must be a lightweight when it came to alcohol. 

The blush only brought Draco’s attention to Potter’s eyes, which were so vibrantly green and alive with gleeful light. Draco took a hasty sip of the horrible wine so he didn’t end up staring longingly into Potter’s eyes. 

He raised his glass, shooting a glare at Luna and Dudley who now looked amused. “To our next journey, finding the non-existent Chupacabra.”

Three glasses clinked against his. 

“It does exist, though,” Potter said before he pulled away. “I’ll prove it to you.”

Draco grinned wickedly. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

**xXx**

“So tales of the Chupacabra are only relatively recent, in the last few years or so,” Potter said, sliding a drawing across his desk to Draco. The creature looked like a hairless, skeletal dog of some kind.

“Do you mean to tell me that there isn’t even a photo?” Draco asked in astonishment. “At least the Loch Ness Monster had some attempts at evidence, even if they all did fall flat.” 

“There are eyewitness accounts of the Chupacabra,” Potter defended hotly. “It lived undiscovered for so long that there’s not been much opportunity to take photos of it.”

“None of the eyewitnesses had a camera on them, then, did they?” Draco raised a brow. “What does this thing supposedly do?”

“It kills livestock, especially goats, and drains their blood,” Potter said in a conspiratorial tone. “Some think whatever its been feeding off of all these years has run out, and that’s why it’s encroaching on human territory now.”

“So this creature which looks like some kind of dog or coyote is attacking livestock, and somehow that’s supernatural and not just a case of rabies or natural animal violence?” 

“It drains their _blood_ , Malfoy,” Potter said, as though Draco hadn’t heard him the first time. “I’ve met a vampire, so who’s to say animal versions of vampires can’t exist too?”

“I can say that,” Draco said in exasperation, “and all the research and evidence that has shown only human vampires for centuries,” he continued. “I’m not saying this is a coyote, but if it looks like a coyote and acts like a coyote…”

“Coyotes don’t drain animals of blood, even if they have rabies,” Potter said. “You’ll see. We’ll try to lure one, and then you’ll realise that these aren’t ordinary animals.”

“Well one thing’s for sure, you’re certainly not ordinary,” Draco muttered, wondering why he was attracted to Potter despite all the crazy. In fact, Potter’s dedication to his eccentric beliefs only turned Draco on in ways he couldn’t begin to explain to himself. Sure, it was an irritated, tired arousal, but it was arousal nonetheless. 

He’d accepted the fact that he was into Potter now, but that didn’t mean he was going to do anything about it. There was no way that Potter would be interested in Draco, and Draco didn’t feel much like getting his heart ripped out and stomped on. It would be especially bad with Potter, because Draco imagined that Potter would be full of pity for him and inadvertently humiliate him while trying to gently break his heart. 

“We are going to have some time in the sun though, aren’t we? Not working, I mean,” Draco clarified. “I don’t mind going on a coyote hunt if I get at least a little bit of sun and relaxation afterwards.”

“Don’t you just burn in the sun? You’re so pale,” Potter laughed. “And yes, after we’ve finished with our _Chupacabra_ hunt, we’ll have a day of playing tourist. We can’t splash around for any more days in the sun, though, so don’t get your hopes up.” 

“I don’t get my hopes up about anything, as a rule,” Draco said. 

Potter frowned. “That sounds like a miserable way to live.”

“My life is miserable considering I’m still technically homeless.” Draco shrugged, “I’m happy at work, at least. I might mock you constantly, but hunting down imaginary creatures with you has been the highlight of my post-war life.”

“Your life must have been bad, then, if being with me has been your highlight,” Potter said, not looking like he was sure whether to look grim or sympathetic. 

Draco smirked, not wanting to force Potter into the role of therapist. “You’re not so bad, Potter. Your hair’s a mess and you might very well be insane, but I actually might like you a little bit. Don’t tell anyone, though.”

Potter grinned. “I might actually like you a little bit, too, even if you are unadventurous and mouthy. Does that make us friends?”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t know. Are we?”

“I hope we are,” Potter said, offering his hand to Draco. “Maybe we could even start using each other’s first names. What do you think, _Draco_?” 

His name sounded wonderful on Potter’s lips. 

“I suppose we better, in case we get eaten by rabid coyotes,” Draco said, taking the offered hand and shaking it. “Harry.”

**xXx**

Puerto Rico was a world away from Scotland. Pretty, vibrantly-coloured buildings were nestled between lush green trees, and were framed by a deep blue sky. The sun beamed down on them, bathing them in warm light.

“Can you pick some more imaginary creatures that live in nice places like this?” Draco asked as they walked up the steps to their hotel. “This is far nicer than Loch Ness. Sure, it was scenic, but Scotland is known for its dull weather.”

“Sadly, you aren’t being paid to sunbathe,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “And these creatures aren’t imaginary.”

“You’re right,” Draco deadpanned. “Coyotes are real, I forgot. Do you speak any Spanish?”

Harry shook his head. “No, but I cast a Translation Charm on myself in the airport bathroom. To the locals, it will be like I’m talking perfect Spanish, and I’ll hear them in perfect English. Remind me to cast it on you once we get to the room.”

“That depends on whether you came up with the spell yourself, or if Granger did,” Draco said with a wry grin. 

“Do you think I could invent my own spell?” Harry retorted with a grin of his own. “Hermione’s brilliant, but she refuses to work in the Department of Mysteries because she thinks it’s corrupt. She’s probably not wrong. I think Kingsley Shacklebolt is the best Minister we’ve had, but there are too many bad seeds in all parts of the Ministry even now. That’s part of the reason I quit Auror training.”

“What’s the rest of the reason?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I kept getting in trouble for being too impulsive and not listening to my superiors. Plus Luna needed help with _The Quibbler_ and I didn’t want her magazine to go under.”

Draco pretended to think. “Surely you’re known for being impulsive and not listening to superiors? I’m surprised they hired you in the first place.”

“Me too, but I suppose they thought defeating Voldemort was the only check I needed to pass. Do you want to wait here while I check in? There are probably seats inside if you want to wait in reception.”

“I’ll come in with you,” Draco said, pleased to see there were chairs in the cool waiting area. As much as he liked the sun, the artificial chill in the room was pleasant. 

He watched as Harry spoke to the receptionist, amused by the fact that to him, Harry was speaking in English and the receptionist in Spanish, yet the two of them were conversing easily. Draco also couldn’t help but notice the delicious curve of Harry’s arse as he leaned slightly over the counter, displaying his pert bum as if just for Draco.

As soon as Harry got the key he gestured for Draco to follow him, taking him into a lift that only went up or down—a very basic version of the ones at the Ministry of Magic. 

The hotel clearly wasn’t anything special, with only the basic necessities, but it was brighter than the one in Loch Ness. The sun shining through the hallway windows was also a nice touch. 

Then Harry opened the door to their room, and his heart dropped into his stomach. 

“Er, why’s there only one bed?” Harry asked. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t have anything to do with the booking,” Draco snapped. Realising he was on the defensive, he shot Harry a shaky grin. 

Harry’s cheeks were stained pink, and he refused to look Draco in the eyes. 

“I’ll call reception,” Harry said, picking up the Muggle telly-phone to explain the situation to the receptionist. 

“Right. Right. Are you sure? Right. Okay. Right. Thank you anyway,” Harry said, clearly having a riveting conversation. He hung up the phone and turned to Draco. “So apparently on our booking we were down as having a double room, and there aren’t any twins left in the hotel so we’ve got to manage with this. I don’t want to risk transfiguring anything into a bed seeing as this place is all Muggle, so I can sleep on the floor if that would make you more comfortable.”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat. The idea of sharing a bed with Harry should have made him uncomfortable but instead he rather liked the idea. He’d be able to get closer to him than he had ever been before.

“You’re not a peasant, Harry, you’re not sleeping on the floor,” Draco said bluntly. “We can manage a couple of nights sharing a bed. Unless you’re scared of me.”

Harry’s blush deepened. “As if I’d be scared of you. 

“So there’s no problem with us sharing a bed.”

“I guess not.” Harry’s brows furrowed, as though he was still working out what had just happened. 

Draco smirked. “Excellent, I’ll take the side nearest the window.”

He could scarcely believe Harry had agreed so easily. Even though Draco wasn’t exactly planning on seducing Harry in the middle of the night, it still felt thrilling that he was going to have Harry lying beside him.

**xXx**

When they left the hotel, Harry was carrying a battered briefcase that Draco hadn’t seen before. Draco had sent Harry a questioning look, but had only received a wry smile in return. It was no doubt going to be something weird, so Draco decided not to press it.

After they arrived at some rural farmland and Harry pulled a goat out of the case, Draco didn’t know whether or not he was pleased not to have asked for more information. 

“Are you part of an international goat smuggling ring?” Draco asked, raising a brow. “I’ll not assist you with that; I’ve had my share of illegal clubs.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “What interest could I possibly have in smuggling goats? Chupacabra are known to especially be attracted to goats, so Gertrude is going to be our bait. Don’t worry, though, I won’t let her be eaten. Abe would kill me if I let that happen—he barely wanted to give her to me in the first place.”

“I wasn’t worried, and who the fuck is Abe?” Draco raised his other brow. “And if you’re both so concerned about goat safety, why have you had Gertrude stuffed in that briefcase all this time?”

“I can’t believe you’re more interested in the goat than you are the Chupacabra! Abe is Aberforth Dumbledore, yes, our Dumbledore’s brother. And Luna is friends with Rolf Scamander, Newt Scamander’s nephew, who gifted her with this animal transporting briefcase, based on Newt’s original case. There was plenty of room and grass in there for Gertrude.”

“You have such an odd collection of friends,” Draco muttered, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, well, you’re one of them,” Harry said, grinning. 

Draco’s heart skipped a beat. Even though Harry had referred to Draco as being his friend several times now, the word on Harry’s lips always had Draco’s stomach fluttering. 

“So, are we going to use this goat as bait for our rabid coyotes or what?” Draco asked, trying very hard not to roll his eyes as Harry attached a leash and collar to Gertrude before charming it invisible. 

“I suppose rabid coyotes may also be attracted to Gertrude, but fingers crossed we’ll catch a Chupacabra instead,” Harry said, allowing Gertrude to trot off a fair distance away from them. Harry’s fist remained outstretched, attached to the invisible lead. “You don’t always have to be such a skeptic, you know.”

“I’m not a skeptic, I just believe in things which have evidence backing them,” Draco responded. “I’m pragmatically minded, while you’re living with your head in the clouds. But, I suppose, if you’re happy then there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I’m glad you care about my happiness,” Harry said with a wry grin. “But don’t you think that everything at some point had to have existed without evidence?”

Draco shrugged. “I suppose so, but that still isn’t a valid reason for proof of possible existence. But maybe we’ll find some Chupacabra today and you can prove me wrong. I do think we’re more likely to find some savage wild dogs, but I’ll hold out hope for you.”

“So very open-minded of you,” Harry said, shaking his head in exasperation. “Oh, do you hear that?”

“Not with you talking over it,” Draco muttered. 

Harry huffed but fell silent, and Draco strained his ears. Leaves from the nearby woodland were rustling, and a low, guttural sort of growling noise could just be heard. 

“ _Chupacabra_ ,” Harry mouthed at Draco, as he tugged protectively at Gertrude’s leash. 

Draco rolled his eyes and mouth back, “ _Coyotes_.”

Harry shook his head and gestured for Draco to get the camera at the ready as he slowly crept towards the woodland. 

Draco stepped close behind Harry, his wand at the ready. Harry clearly hadn’t factored in the possibility of being attacked by a wild animal, but Draco certainly had. He could almost imagine some sharp-toothed coyote leaping out at Harry, only to be stopped by Draco’s spell. Harry would swoon, and cry, “ _Draco, you’re amazing! Why did I ever think searching for this make-believe creature would be a good idea? Thank goodness you came with me_!”

The fantasy was so cringe-worthy that Draco inwardly winced. 

“Look!” Harry cried, causing Draco to jump. “It’s some kind of small animal carcass. There’s more than one, too!”

“Don’t go near it!” Draco snapped, not sure how much impulse control Harry actually had, though he imagined it to be very little “They’re probably crawling with disease.”

“Oh yeah, you’re probably right,” Harry said. “Can you get a photo? Good girl, Gertrude, he was probably watching you until me and Draco spooked him off.”

“No, you can’t claim this as Chupacabra evidence,” Draco said as he snapped a photo of the gruesome animal remains. “Anything could have killed these things.”

“And anything _could_ be the Chupacabra,” Harry retorted with a wide smile. “Besides, we have plenty more farmland and woodland to explore.”

“Goody,” Draco said dryly, trying very hard not to smile at Harry’s ridiculous enthusiasm. “I do hope I don’t get lost in the woods with you.”

Harry caught his gaze and flushed slightly. “I don’t know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.” 

Draco’s heart skipped a beat and he felt his own cheeks grow warm. “That’s fair. Gertrude has done nothing but be an excellent character.”

“You’re right, Gertrude is a fine goat,” Harry agreed, bumping his shoulder into Draco’s.

**xXx**

Draco didn’t know why he’d ever suggested to Harry that they take a day at the beach before they left Puerto Rico.

Well, technically he did know why. Not only had he wanted an opportunity to stealthily ogle a shirtless Harry, he did enjoy sitting in the sun. He remained ever-pale, because his skin burned unless he wore a healthy coating of anti-sunburn balm, but that didn’t stop him from welcoming the pleasant warmth. 

And while Puerto Rico certainly offered plenty of hot sun, sandy beaches, and lush greenery, it was the other situation that Draco had underestimated. He should have learned by now never to underestimate Harry Potter. 

It was hard to tell when he wore clothes, but Harry had an incredibly fit body. He wasn’t bulky with muscles, or ripped, as he’d heard Pansy refer to people before, but his stomach and chest were flat and toned, with a narrow dip near his hip bones that Draco couldn’t stop thinking about running his tongue over. 

Harry had dusky pink nipples, and a trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button into the waistband of his swimming trunks. Draco wanted to lick every inch of him, and he could barely think about anything else. He was trying to read, but his gaze kept leaving the page to roam over Harry’s body. 

It wasn’t supposed to have been so intense. Draco had hoped to have been pleased by Harry’s bare chest but not completely transfixed. Dare he say it, Draco actually liked Harry as a person now, too, and it wasn’t fair that he was so likable and so attractive. Draco might have been good-looking, but he certainly wasn’t a person that was liked. 

With Harry, you just couldn’t help it. He’d been all goody-two-shoes, naive, puppy-loyal, and just plain irritating at school, but growing up had done a lot of favours for him—in more ways than one. 

“I’m going to go for a dip in the sea,” Harry said, making Draco jump. He’d been so focused in his gazing that for a horrified moment he thought he’d been called out for it. “Are you coming?”

“Maybe later,” Draco said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m getting to a good part of my book.”

Truthfully, Draco didn’t know how good the part of his book was, despite the fact he’d read the page at least three times now. The worst part was that even with Harry gone, Draco still couldn’t keep his eyes on his book.

His gaze kept darting to Harry, whose perfect body was now glistening with water. Some women nearby were giggling and batting their lashes at him, but Harry seemed completely oblivious as he alternated between wading and swimming through the azure waters. 

Draco’s prick twitched with interest. He closed his eyes, willing his body to ignore his mind’s fixation, but it seemed to have no desire to listen to him. With a low growl that caused a nearby family to shoot him a concerned look, Draco threw his book down and hurried to one of the nearby changing tents, yanking the curtains shut behind him. 

His hand slid beneath his swimming trunks, bliss rushing over him as he grasped his aching length in hand. Merlin, what had he become, wanking over Harry Potter in a tent on the beach? He’d surely gone insane.

It was better not to dwell on that, Draco decided, as he spilled his release over his fingers.

**xXx**

“Hello, Dursley,” Draco snarled with a twisted smile, slamming his hand down on Dudley’s reception desk.

Dudley looked up at him blankly, and gave him an innocent smile. “Can I help you with something, Draco?”

“Yes, you can!” Draco cried, realising quickly that he was about to cause a scene, and didn’t particularly want people outside overhearing. “What were you playing at, booking us only one bed?”

Dudley’s mouth fell open in shock, though the action appeared too forced to be natural. “You were only given one bed? I bet that must have been awful for you both.”

“Oh, we survived,” Draco said sharply. The truth was, sharing a bed with Harry had been more than pleasant. Waking up in the night to see Harry’s peaceful slumbering face had been nothing short of bliss, but that was for him to know and no one else to find out. “However, twin beds would have been far more preferable, as I’m sure you can understand.”

“And you think it was my doing? I’m sure the hotel just made a mistake,” Dudley said, turning his attention to some paperwork in front of him. 

Draco let out a huff. “No, I checked. It came from the booking.”

“Then I must have made a mistake when I filled out the booking form, sorry about that,” Dudley said, not sounding sorry at all. 

“Well, see it doesn’t happen again.” Draco nodded in satisfaction at having gotten his piece out, and turned to go on his way.

“It won’t,” Dudley called out behind him. “And I hope the two of you had a great time!”

Draco turned in horror, but Dudley was already disappearing into Luna’s office, the coward.

**xXx**

The more Draco found himself returning to Pansy and Astoria’s home, the more unwelcome he felt.

It wasn’t that Pansy and Astoria made him feel like that, because they were more than supportive of him. It wasn’t even that he felt as undeserving of their kindness as he once had. No, now that he was actually working and had somehow made friends—good, honest, incredibly weird friends—with Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood, he still couldn’t even manage to survive on his own.

Luna paid more than Draco could have ever hoped for in a job, but rent was expensive. He had no chance of being able to afford his own place, and he’d decided against wizarding landlords from now on. If it came to it, he could hoodwink a Muggle into giving him a couple more days to pay the rent if he found himself in that situation, but he hoped not to be stuck again. 

It was the deposit and furnishing an apartment that was his problem. While he desperately tried to save up some funding, he was forced to continue to intrude. 

He didn’t think he’d ever find himself actually wishing to be back searching for some fantasy creatures with Harry, but now he truly was. But Harry had articles to write, not just for his creature hunting but for other parts of _The Quibbler_ , and Luna ‘graciously’ thought it would be nice for Draco to do all of his assistant duties from home. And because Draco was a diligent worker, he’d ended up finishing all his jobs within three days and had found himself with nothing to do. 

Which was how he found himself sitting with Pansy and Astoria doing a jigsaw puzzle, feeling as bored as Pansy looked. Astoria loved her Muggle hobbies, and Pansy was incredibly smitten and went along even though she hated them. 

Draco found his thoughts drifting to fantasies of sitting with Harry, doing a jigsaw of puppies together. His eyes fluttered shut as he grimaced, wishing his could stop his traitorous mind from throwing cutesy images of Harry at him. 

“Alright there, Draco?” Pansy asked sharply. “You’re not having a brain aneurysm, are you?”

“That’s a big word for you to use,” Draco retorted, opening his eyes. “But sadly no. That might make my life easier.”

“What’s wrong? I heard from Daphne, who heard from Luna, that you seem to be really liking your new job,” Astoria said. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Nice to hear you all still gossip about me. But yes, I do enjoy my job. I’m getting paid good money to go on holiday and do incredibly easy work for Harry. The hunting for imaginary creatures part is ridiculous, but—”

“Harry?” Pansy interrupted, raising an elegant brow. Draco cursed himself for slipping up in front of them. 

“We’re what some would consider friends now,” Draco said stiffly, fidgeting as he felt Pansy and Astoria’s eyes boring into him. “I’m also horrifically attracted to him and I don’t know how to stop myself.”

Pansy and Astoria exchanged confused looks. 

“I thought you always had a crush on him?” Pansy said. “You spent years pulling his metaphorical pigtails.”

“You two would definitely make a hot couple,” Astoria added. “Does he fancy you back?”

“I very much doubt that,” Draco scoffed. 

“So basically you have no idea?” Pansy muttered, rolling her eyes. “You’re always so negative, darling. Potter would be lucky to have you, and as long as he’s not completely blind then there’s no way he won’t be attracted to your gorgeous face.”

“Yes, I’m beautiful, we all know that,” Draco said, waving a hand airily. “However I am an ex-Death Eater who bullied the hell out of him and his friends in school. His overly-large heart might have forgiven me enough for us to become friends, but I’m not going to open my heart to Harry just to have him reject me.”

“Yeah, you did fuck up when you were younger,” Pansy said sharply. “So what? You’ve made amends and you’ve suffered more than enough for what you’ve done, so I think you’re entitled to try for some happiness instead of wallowing in your self-pity.”

Draco’s mouth went dry at Pansy’s comments, his stomach twisting violently. He didn’t know why it hurt to hear that he was worthy of happiness. 

“Pansy…” Astoria tried to soothe, but her words went ignored.

“No, Draco needs to hear this,” Pansy argued. “I just want you to be happy and have nice things. Potter might irritate the fuck out of me, but if he makes you happy then so be it. Am I saying you should go and confess your love to him? Of course not! But you can flirt with him and have a bit of fun, and you might find yourself surprised. What’s the alternative? Moping about an unrequited attraction that you’re _choosing_ to make sure remains unrequited?”

“I really hate when you talk sense, Pansy,” Draco said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

She was right; Draco did choose to wallow in self-pity because it was what he knew best. Life had been hard for him for years, but finally— _finally_ —it seemed like he was maybe on his way up, and maybe he needed to embrace that to keep the momentum going. Or he could keep his feelings to himself and avoid rejection; he hadn’t quite decided yet.

**xXx**

The front office of the _Quibbler_ ’s headquarters was empty when Draco arrived, the desk suspiciously clear of Dudley.

Draco wasn’t supposed to be at work, admittedly. He’d simply grown bored of sitting around, and decided he might as well go and bother Harry for something to do. Maybe he’d even flirt a little, or maybe not. He still couldn’t decide what he wanted to do, and the conflicting feelings had been keeping him up at night. 

He made his way to Harry’s office, frowning when he heard voices he didn’t recognise coming from within. The accents were distinctly American sounding, and he couldn’t recall Harry ever saying he knew Americans. 

He pushed open the door without knocking, determined to show whoever was in there that he was so friendly with Harry now he didn’t need to bother with politeness because Harry wouldn’t mind. He came up short, however, when he realised it was only Harry and Dudley in there. They sat together on the sofa as they watched a Muggle television, which was where the American voices were coming from. 

Both of them looked up when Draco entered, and Draco’s heart fluttered at the smile that Harry sent his way.

“Draco!” Harry exclaimed brightly. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today!”

“Me neither,” Dudley said, clambering to his feet. “Uh, I need to get off now anyway. I have, uh, something to pick up for Mum. See you later, Harry, Draco.”

Dudley clapped Draco on the shoulder as he left, leaving his departed seat beside Harry invitingly open. 

“Come sit down,” Harry said, patting the cushion. “I needed a break, and this show inspires me.”

“What is it?” Draco asked, gingerly sitting beside Harry and studying the screen. A man and woman in smart suits were talking in an office, a poster on the wall reading ‘ _I want to believe_ ’ with a UFO above it, similar to a t-shirt he’d seen Harry wearing before.

Draco hated that he knew what UFOs were now, thanks to Harry. 

“It’s the X-Files,” Harry said. “It’s not real, but it’s entertaining. “That’s Mulder and she’s Scully, and they hunt aliens mostly. Mulder believes in it all, but Scully is far more skeptical.”

“So a fictional version of you and I?” Draco raised a brow. 

Harry grinned and shuffled a little closer to Draco. “I guess you could say that.”

Draco froze for a moment as Harry’s thigh pressed against him, but he relaxed as he felt Harry stiffen in response to his reaction. Acting far braver than he felt, Draco stretched his arm out on the back of the sofa, as close to Harry’s back as he could without touching it. 

Harry leaned backwards, pressing his body against Draco’s arm, delightfully warm. 

Draco opened his mouth to speak but found his mouth had gone dry. He was very sure that he was awake, yet the whole situation felt like one of his recent dreams. Unlike in his dreams, though, Draco could feel Harry’s heat and smell his woodsy aftershave, and track the subtle movements of Harry’s body as he shifted ever so slightly, clearly unable to sit still.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, drawing Draco out of his reverie. 

“Very,” Draco said quickly, inwardly cringing at his response. “I mean, yes. If I ask you if aliens are real, are you going to say yes and back up your claims with inconclusive evidence?”

“The evidence is conclusive,” Harry answered with a wry smile. “There’s been loads of accounts of UFOs and alien abduction. And there’s Area 51 which everyone knows has aliens inside but it’s too closely guarded for anyone non-official to get inside. Maybe one day there’ll be a raid because they can’t stop everyone. And unfortunately we can’t go into space, even as wizards, and training to be a Muggle astronaut isn’t as easy as all that.”

“It’s a good job you have plenty of make-believe creatures to hunt on Earth then, isn’t it?” Draco teased, boldly dropping his fingers to rub gentle circles on Harry’s shoulder, pleased when Harry didn’t pull away. 

“And good job I have you to hunt them with me, complaining all the way,” Harry grinned. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Draco grinned back. “Glad I can be of service.”

**xXx**

Draco walked briskly down the Kansas street, studying the information Harry had just given him with confusion.

“But why are we going to look at ghosts?” Draco asked, looking away from the parchment to give Harry a quizzical look. “I thought you only searched for nonsensical things, and it’s a well-known fact that ghosts exist.”

Harry rolled his eyes so hard that Draco wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d hurt himself. 

Draco had barely been given any warning that they were going on an overseas trip, only a Floo call telling him to pack a bag suitable for midwest America. He had only found out why they were here after the International Portkey had whisked them away. 

Harry had been so frantic packing things up at the office that he hadn’t even excitedly talked about why they were coming. The frenzied intensity of his packing had concerned Draco somewhat, and more concerning if they had only come to see a spirit of a little girl in a Muggle house. 

“It’s not a ghost, didn’t you read the parchment properly?” Harry asked. 

“I skimmed it,” Draco said briskly, and Harry rolled his eyes again. 

“Well it might seem like a ghost at first glance, but other paranormal investigators have enough evidence to suggest that this is actually a demon. Demons often masquerade as children, and the violent activity and dark energy in the house suggest there’s definitely something sinister going on.”

“Demons? What are they? A form of poltergeist?”

He could get on board with a different kind of spirit haunting a location. Ghosts and poltergeists were nothing unusual to him.

Harry grimaced and shook his head. “They’re malevolent spirits, but not of human nature. They’re otherworldly beings, some of them incredibly powerful and others not so much, but still dangerous because all of them have the potential ability to possess humans. Don’t worry, I’ve got everything we’ll need to protect us.”

Draco let out a whistle. “For once I thought you weren’t going to be as eccentric, but then you mentioned otherworldly beings. Poltergeists can be violent, and I guess Muggles wanted to be dramatic about it.”

“Muggles know about poltergeists,” Harry said. “Not to say they all believe in them, but they’re not unknown by any means.”

“Hmm, well I’ve grown up around ghosts so I know them and how they act. If this little girl is noticeably different than the poltergeists I’ve known, then I’ll willingly admit that you might be right about this one thing existing.”

Harry grinned. “The words that every boy wants to hear. Oh, the hotel should be right here.”

They stopped outside of a pale pink building with white panels on the front. The inside was stuffy, with only a dusty ceiling fan in place to stop the heat. Dark oak rocking chairs were the only form of comfort available, and the receptionist was a woman so old that she looked like she ought to be long retired. 

She smiled at them brightly until it came to checking their booking, at which point her demeanour changed at once and she all but threw the key across the front desk at them. 

Harry politely thanked her regardless, which was pointless given the nasty glare Draco was giving her. The reason for her sudden change became obvious when they opened the door to their room and found that it was once again a double. 

“The homophobic old bat,” Draco snarled. “And fuck Dursley too.”

He knew for certain now that Dudley knew exactly what he was doing with these hotel bookings.

“Er, Dudley has been known to struggle with tasks quite often,” Harry said quietly. “I don’t much fancy talking to that woman again, and we managed to share that bed in Puerto Rico and survive. Shall we just do the same here?”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes! I mean, I don’t mind; if you want. I’ll probably hex the receptionist if I have to talk to her, so it’s probably best to just put up with this.”

Harry shot him a smile. “Sounds like we’re in agreement then. Do you fancy going out to get something to eat? We can go somewhere nicer than the _Quibbler_ budget allows; my treat.”

**xXx**

Dinner had been a surprisingly pleasant affair. While it wasn’t as though Draco expected him and Harry to start arguing and insulting each other—thankfully they were long past that point—he hadn’t expected it to be quite so simple. Conversation had flowed easily between the two of them. Harry had grinned as Draco teased him when the conversation turned to mothmen, and Draco had smirked when Harry teased him right back.

It had almost been the perfect first date, if only they had actually been on a date and not on a meal out as colleagues. Draco’s heart ached with desire every time he saw Harry’s lips curl into a soft smile, and every time his vibrant emerald eyes landed on Draco. 

Harry seemed completely oblivious to Draco’s affections, because how could he not be? The way he thought nothing of brushing his fingers against Draco’s or bumping their knees together would have been cruel if he knew of Draco’s feelings, and Harry wasn’t a cruel person in the slightest. He was sweet, thoughtful, and utterly infuriating in his naiveté. 

“Do you want to try something different?” Harry asked after they got back to their hotel room, leaning against the door with a casual air. 

Draco’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Like what?” he answered quickly. 

“It’s called a Ouija Board,” Harry said, rooting through his luggage for something, which was lucky as that meant he couldn’t see Draco roll his eyes. Trust Draco’s mind to jump to the gutter when Harry had just been talking about something nonsensical, as usual. 

“And what is a Ouija Board?” Draco asked dryly.

“It’s a way of communicating with spirits and those on the other side,” Harry explained. “It’s a board with letters and a few words on it, and we touch a planchette, which a spirit will move to spell out answers.”

“It sounds ridiculous,” Draco said bluntly, but found his cold exterior melting at Harry’s eager, amused expression. “But fine, I’ll try it with you even if just to prove it’s nonsense.”

“Good, and I’ll prove it’s not nonsense,” Harry said, placing a board on the floor and gesturing for Draco to take a seat. 

Draco’s nose crinkled as he lowered himself to the slightly worn carpet, mirroring Harry’s cross-legged position. The board had the letters of the alphabet scattered across the centre of it, with the words ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’, ‘yes’, and ‘no’ written in the corners. 

“Don’t be rude to the spirits, and don’t invite anything to manifest itself,” Harry said warningly. “Ouija Boards can be dangerous if they’re not used properly. I’ll end the session early if anything else concerning appears, but otherwise we can talk until we’re done and then we’ll say goodbye and close the session.”

Harry’s concern seemed to seep through the board and into Draco, just a little bit. For such a silly board, Harry was treating it like something extremely volatile, and given Harry’s previous, well-renowned reckless carelessness, it was no wonder his anxiety was rubbing off on Draco. 

“And don’t move the planchette yourself, because I’ll know it’s you,” Harry added.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Noted. Are you going to get started then?”

They placed their fingertips on the planchette before Harry spoke. “Hello, are there any spirits here who wish to communicate with us?” 

The planchette remained still for a few moments, and just when Draco was about to make a snarky comment about it, it began to move to the corner of the board until the circle showed the word ‘yes’ beneath it. 

“Very funny, Potter,” Draco said dryly, but Harry looked too surprised for it to be fake.

“It’s not me! Hello! What’s your name?”

“You swear you’re not doing this?” Draco asked, astonished as the planchette began to move across the board, spelling out R - E - G - I - N - A - L -D.

“I swear!” Harry cried. “It’s nice to meet you, Reginald. Are you from this town?”

The planchette moved to the ‘yes’ again. 

“Do you have family here?” Harry asked, prompting the planchette to circle around the ‘yes’ marking. 

Draco couldn’t quite believe what was happening. He was keeping his own touch as light as possible on the planchette because he’d wanted to prove a point, but he trusted that Harry wasn’t messing with him—his reactions were far too natural. 

It looked like Draco was going to have to allow Harry this Ouija Board as being a valid communication device for spirits. He was sure the spirits were simple ghosts, though, rather than the demons Harry had been talking about earlier—he couldn’t allow Harry to be that right. 

Draco’s attention snapped away from Harry and back to the board as the planchette abruptly moved to the ‘goodbye’ mark, before moving back to the ‘hello’. Harry’s eyes narrowed as the planchette moved without question, spelling out a new word—H - A - R - R - Y. 

Harry’s gaze snapped to Draco, who shook his head silently as the planchette started to move in a figure eight over the centre of the board. 

“Who is this?” Harry asked sharply, his tone far more wary than Draco had heard it in a long while. 

T - O - M - R - I - D - D - L -.-

“Thanks for talking to us, goodbye,” Harry said quickly, moving the planchette to the ‘goodbye’ mark and flipping the board over. He jumped to his feet and ran a trembling hand through his hair. 

Draco clambered to his feet, frowning at Harry’s sudden change in mood. Harry looked lost, and Draco didn’t think twice before pulling Harry into his arms. He froze as he realised what he’d done, but Harry relaxed in his arms and wrapped his own around Draco. 

“Do you know who Tom Riddle is?” Harry asked, so quiet that Draco had to strain to hear him. 

“No,” Draco said. “But it seems like you do.”

Harry laughed humourlessly. “You wouldn’t do. He didn’t want people knowing his true identity. Tom Riddle was the real name of Voldemort.”

Draco’s blood ran cold, suddenly aware of what had shocked Harry so much. 

“He split his soul before he died, and as a result he’s never able to move on. He has no soul left on Earth to return to our world, and not enough left him to go into the next plain. I guess he still watches over me from wherever he’s stuck.”

“Well fuck him, quite frankly,” Draco said, harsher than intended. “He’s stuck in some kind of purgatory, and you’re out here in the world of the living. I think he ruined both of our lives enough when he was alive, and who are we to let him ruin it from beyond the grave? I—”

His words were cut off as Harry’s lips descended on his, soft and warm, and so fast Draco was certain he’d imagined it for a second.

“I’m so sorry!” Harry cried. “You were just being so nice, and I kind of really like you a lot, but—”

Draco was kissing Harry before he even thought about it, knowing that thinking about it would have stopped him going for what he wanted. Harry melted into him, his mouth moving soundlessly against Draco’s. Draco drew Harry’s bottom lip between his own and bit down gently, prompting a mewl of pleasure to sound from Harry. 

Soon the Ouija Board lay forgotten as they lost themselves in one another.

**xXx**

Draco woke the next morning curled around Harry. He blinked, his eyes heavy from sleep and the sun seeping through the window—they hadn’t closed the curtains the night before.

For a moment, Draco thought he was still dreaming. There was no way that Harry could really be snuggled up with him in bed, but then he shifted his leg and winced as the beginnings of a cramp shot through his calf. 

He hissed in pain as he shook his leg, pleased despite the pain, because his aching leg could only mean that he wasn’t dreaming. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked groggily, and the sound of his voice turned Draco’s pleasure to terror all at once. 

“Yeah, just slept on my leg funny,” Draco said through gritted teeth. 

Harry turned over and Draco braced himself for the rejection that he was sure was coming. Last night had been a mistake, Harry would say, or perhaps he’d say the sex was good but it was a one-off and they’d be better off as friends. 

Instead of saying any of that, Harry smiled gently and used a tender finger to brush a strand of hair out of Draco’s face.

The touch went straight to Draco’s prick, the memory of Harry’s fingers around it the night before still vivid in his mind.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Harry murmured softly. “I can’t believe you actually wanted to kiss me.”

Draco frowned, unsure of how Harry could be so unaware of his own attractiveness. 

“Are you kidding? You’re stunning, don’t you know that? All those witch magazines are constantly on about you being a heart-throb.”

Harry’s lips quirked. “Believe it or not, I don’t subscribe to _Witch Weekly_ or the like. Do you…? I mean, are we…?” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Was last night just a one off for you, Draco? Or do you want more? Because I like you a lot and I was too nervous to say anything, but then last night was just like this _frenzy_ and…would you like to go out? On a proper date sometime, I mean.”

“Wow, you’re horrible at flirting,” Draco said bluntly, even though his heart was beating a million miles an hour in his chest. “It’s a good job I like you regardless.”

Harry beamed, and leaned forwards to press their lips together. Draco sighed, contented. He didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of feeling Harry’s lips against his. 

“You’re not just fucking with me, are you?” Draco asked, pulling away as doubt crept through him like a nagging itch. “Because good things don’t happen to me, as a rule.”

“I wouldn't ever do anything like that,” Harry said sincerely. 

“I know,” Draco said softly. “You’re too much of a goody goody for that,” he added with a smirk. 

“Well, I’m not too much of a goody goody for a shag, if you’re up for it?” Harry said lowly, trailing his mouth down Draco’s neck to press kisses against his sensitive skin. “The demon might kill us later, so it could be our last chance.”

Draco laughed out loud, the sound turning into a moan when Harry sucked on a particularly sensitive spot. 

“That might be the most ridculous reason to fuck that I’ve ever heard, but I’d be a fool to turn it down. Now turn over and I’ll fuck you into oblivion before the demon sends us there himself.”

**xXx**

When they arrived at the house, Draco couldn’t bring himself to feel either scared or bemused by the supposed demonic haunting. All he wanted was to touch Harry again, and taste every inch of his skin, and fuck him, and be fucked by him, and _everything_.

He threw an arm around Harry’s shoulder, and waggled his eyebrows suggestively when Harry turned to look at him. 

“So there are bedrooms in this house, yeah?” Draco said lowly. “And we’re going to be all alone…”

“We’re not going to be alone, and I don’t want to shag in the presence of a demon,” Harry said sternly. “If we survive, we can have all the sex we want after we get back to the hotel.”

“Or,” Draco said, “there could be no demon here and then we’d be at perfect liberty to do what we want. If we don’t find any evidence of a demon then I could suck you off for a consolation prize. And then you could suck me off for sucking you off.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but Draco could tell that it was affectionate. “Fine, but only if there’s definitely no demon here. But I’m very, very certain that there is. Are you ready to go in and find out?”

Draco nodded, grasping the camera hanging around his neck. “More ready to prove you wrong than I’ve ever been.”

The house inside looked like any other home, with a long entrance hallway leading to a staircase. Family photos lined the walls, and a vase of flowers sat on a mantlepiece in the corridor. 

“The wife and children don’t come here very often,” Harry said as they crept further into the house, down to a sparsely decorated sitting room. “They stay with her mother because of the violent activity that was going on here. The father stays most nights because he works nearby and someone needs to look after the house. Word got out that it’s haunted, so they’re finding it impossible to sell. I’ve promised him that we’ll give copies of all of our evidence to the local priest so they know what they’re working with.” 

“Helping out the Muggle community with their creatures problems now, are we?” Draco asked with a raised brow. “You really do love to play the hero.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort when a bang sounded in the room next door. Harry shared a look with Draco before he hurried in the direction they had heard the noise. Draco rolled his eyes at Harry’s lack of caution before running after strange noises, but reluctantly followed after him. 

“Look!” Harry cried excitedly, pointed at a book which had fallen off a shelf in what appeared to be a home office. 

“So what?” Draco said. “The wind probably blew it off.”

“The window’s shut,” Harry pointed out. 

“A draft then,” Draco suggested. “Or it just hadn’t been put back properly. A fallen book doesn’t constitute a demon.”

“Is there anyone in here with us?” Harry called out to the room instead, choosing to ignore Draco. “Can you push another book from the shelf? Or you can knock something off the desk, if you’d like.”

They both waited with bated breath, but nothing happened. Draco opened his mouth to comment when a thud sounded upstairs, and then another. 

“The husband isn’t home, is he?” Draco asked, a cold chill constricting his heart as the thuds sounded more and more like footsteps.

Harry shook his head and raised a vial of water in one hand, and threw a large cross at Draco who caught it easily. 

“Take your wand out, too. I don’t know what spells work against demons, so I’d recommend you stick with protective spells if you need them.”

“We’re not going upstairs, are we?” Draco asked, alarmed, as Harry began to head to the stairs. “What if it’s burglars?”

Harry shot Draco a quizzical look. “You think we can’t take Muggle burglars?”

He flipped a switch which blasted light in the upstairs corridor before it was promptly turned off. 

“Very funny,” Harry said dryly, flicking the switch again to no avail, no matter how many times he pressed it. 

“We’re coming up now,” Harry continued as he started to make his way upstairs, clearly too much of a Gryffindor for his own good. Draco only followed so he wouldn’t be left on his own downstairs. 

Not that he believed that a demon was in the house, of course. Poltergeists could do all the things that they’d experienced so far, and poltergeists were known for being mischievous. Whatever spirit they were dealing with seemed more annoying than anything else.

“I have a way for you to speak to us, if you want,” Harry said, bringing a small plastic box with several switches out. “I’m going to turn it on and you can use it to talk.” He turned to Draco and added, “It’s a Spirit Box. It flicks through radio stations incredibly fast, so fast that if any words come through it’s a spirit manipulating the sound waves.”

Draco was about to tell Harry how stupid that sounded, when Harry switched the device on and Draco instantly cringed at the loud static noise that blasted out of it.

“Hello, I’m Harry and this is Draco. Can you say our names back to us?”

The static noise continued, the sound of Muggle radio far more obnoxious than the Wizarding Wireless.

“ _Hello_ ,” came through the Spirit Box, and Harry’s face lit up instantly, despite the fact the voice sounded like a middle-aged woman. 

“My name is Harry,” Harry said. “Can you repeat my name?”

There was more crackling of static before a voice, male this time, said, “ _dead_.”

“Who’s dead?” Harry asked. “You? Or is that a threat to us? Do you want us dead?”

” _Yes_.” The answer came quicker that time, and Draco felt a jolt of fear run through him until he remembered that pretending to be a killer demon is exactly something that a poltergeist would do. 

“That’s friendly of you to say,” Harry said. “I’m turning off the Spirit Box now, thanks for speaking to us.”

“You look far too happy considering the recent death threat,” Draco commented as Harry turned to him with a wide grin.

“We got direct conversation with a spirit on the Spirit Box! You can’t deny that there's something going on here.”

“I don’t deny it,” Draco admitted. “But all of this behaviour could be the work of a poltergeist. You’ll have to work a lot harder to convince me it’s a demon.”

“We have a couple of hours left,” Harry said brightly. “That’s plenty of time.”

“And I suppose even a poltergeist would put you off fucking?”

Harry laughed. “Patience is good for you.”

Draco groaned. It was going to be a long couple of hours.

**xXx**

In the end, Harry insisted that the house was home to a demon, while Draco was still sure that it was just a poltergeist. He couldn’t deny that there was something supernatural going on in the home, but tales of demons were just too far-fetched to be believable. Harry didn’t believe a poltergeist could be so cruel, but the reality, at least to Draco, was that they weren’t all as fun-loving as Peeves.

Still, it didn’t really matter if they disagreed on things—which was good, as they disagreed about a lot of things—because Harry was his _boyfriend_ now. The awareness of that was as bewildering as it was delightful. 

Good things didn’t happen to Draco, but somehow in the last few months he’d been gifted with an eccentric and reckless, but brilliant partner, alongside an unusual but enjoyable and well-paid job. Strangest of all, Draco was beginning to feel like he truly deserved all of it; or at any rate, he was going to fight to keep what he had now. 

Luna and Dudley were in Luna’s office when Draco and Harry returned to the _Quibbler_ base. Luna’s face lit up at the sight of them, her wide eyes sparkling in delight. 

“Something is different between you two! You’ve kissed, haven’t you?” she cried. 

Draco’s eyes widened at her incredible perception, and he shared a glance with Harry who’d gone bright red. 

“You have!” Luna exclaimed before either of them could answer. “Oh, that’s so wonderful, isn’t it Dudley? The two of you make a lovely couple.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “We finally got over our shyness, I guess.”

“Yes, so you can stop trying to push us together now, Dursley,” Draco said, throwing a smirk in Dudley’s direction. 

Dudley feigned a look of innocence. “Who, me?”

Harry frowned in confusion. “Have you, Dudley? What have you been doing?”

Three pairs of skeptical eyes turned to Harry. 

“You don’t really think your cousin’s so stupid he could manage to book us two double rooms in a row?” Draco asked. 

“Well, no, I mean…” Harry’s brows furrowed. “So that wasn’t an accident?”

“Harry, you’re sweet, but you’re very oblivious when you want to be,” Luna said gently. “We’ll have to go on a double date soon! You can tell us all about the demon, and oh! I bet you’ve had sex, too!”

Dudley buried his face in his hands, and Harry threw his arms around Draco so that he could bury his face in his shoulder. 

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry in response, but kept his eyes locked on Luna as he mouthed ‘yes, and it was great.’

Luna grinned.

**xXx**

If Draco had thought revealing his new relationship status to Luna and Dudley was awkward, it was nothing compared to re-introducing Harry to Pansy and Astoria.

Like Luna and Dudley, they were both utterly delighted and insisted on fussing over Harry like he was a pretty new doll for them to play with.

They were also far too interested in Harry’s work for his liking, mainly because they listened to tales of his fantasy creatures with rapt attention and seemed to be siding with Harry’s perspective that those creatures actually existed. 

“So Muggles have their own versions of elves?” Astoria asked. “Humanoid ones who don’t do housework?”

Harry nodded. “I’m surprised our world doesn’t know about them, to be honest, because they exist in their own realm of magic. I suppose they might want to stay hidden from us, though, as we’re more likely to seek them out than Muggles. That’s why we won’t be doing any elf searching—I respect their choice for privacy.”

“You care about him a lot, don’t you?” Pansy asked as she took a seat beside Draco, just out of earshot of Harry and Astoria. 

“He’s a nerd,” Draco answered, half-listening to Harry detailing a story about some lords and some rings. 

“That wasn’t what I asked,” Pansy said, giving Draco a pointed look. “It’s okay if you do. I know you two have a history, but that makes it even cuter that you’ve moved past that and found a more meaningful connection.”

“You’ve been reading too much _Witch Weekly_ ,” Draco said with a sigh, before his expression softened. His heart felt heavy with affection and warmth as he looked at, or even thought of, Harry, and he smiled on instinct as he met Harry’s gaze. “Yes, I do. I feel like a sap, but he makes me more happy than I thought I was capable of being. He _is_ a weirdo, but somehow that makes me care for him even more.”

Pansy took his hand and gave him a kind smile. “I’m pleased for you, Draco. You deserve this.”

“So where are you two off to next?” Astoria asked loudly, gaining Draco and Pansy’s attention. 

Harry looked at Draco before answering. “Greece. We’re going to look for sirens.”

“Like emergency alarms?” Draco queried, confused. 

Harry shook his head. “Like mermaids, but humanoid and with the power to lure men to their deaths at sea by singing.”

“Excellent,” Astoria said.

“Good for them,” Pansy agreed. 

“That sounds entirely implausible, and here’s why,” Draco began, before diving into his rant. 

It would always be like this between them: Harry saying something ridiulous, Draco arguing, and Harry listening to him with bemusement before flat out denying Draco’s logic. It kept things between them exciting, though, and Draco wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

But the mystery of whether Harry’s fantasy creatures actually existed, would always remain _unsolved_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment below. ♥
> 
> This story is part of HD Erised, an on-going anonymous fest. The author will be revealed January 10th.


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